


The Pathfinder and the Exile

by bluerose5



Series: Exile AU [3]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Exile AU, Exile Scott, Fade to Black, Family Issues, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mechanic Scott Ryder, Mostly Fluff, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-06 22:44:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14657763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluerose5/pseuds/bluerose5
Summary: Scott needs some time to escape reality, so Reyes is more than happy to help. Everything seems as if it's okay until the Pathfinder arrives at Port.





	The Pathfinder and the Exile

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, not much angst in this one until the end. It's more fluff, but (at the moment) I think there might be 2 or 3 more additions to this AU because I already have an ending in mind. We'll see.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

When Reyes returns to Scott's— wait, no. When Reyes returns to  _their_ home —because it is  _their_ home now, ever since they got that particular talk out of the way. But that's not what is important right now.

 _God,_ Scott thinks pathetically,  _I'm going to need some serious time to get used to this-this "sharing space" thing._

Anyways, when Reyes finally makes it back to  _their_ home, Scott can almost hear him stop short in the middle of the doorway, confusion coloring his silence. His shoes scuff the floor when they abruptly stop, only to scrape by as Reyes approaches. Each footstep is hesitant, almost questioning, and Scott smiles softly into the arm thrown over his face. Amusement leaks into Reyes' tone once he speaks.

"Do I even want to know what this is?" he questions, scrutinizing the messy structure with a critical eye.

Of course, it isn't difficult at all to discern what it is. Endless plains of sheets and blankets had been scavenged from all corners of their house. The furniture, composed of what flimsy chairs and tables that they have, are arranged perfectly so. Books and other heavy materials are being used to pin down the pristine edges, and the end result is an imperfectly lopsided canopy of cloth. Underneath, Scott is hidden behind the layers of bedding, resting against a nest of pillows.

Scott chuckles from within the makeshift fort, but he makes no move to leave.

"Rey," Scott says, "if you don't even know what a fort is, I'm going to get extremely concerned about your childhood, and that's coming from the man with the absent father."

Sliding his socks and shoes off, Reyes huffs, rolling his eyes at his partner. Not that he can necessarily see it, but still.

"I'll have you know that I never built forts," Reyes brags, lips dragging into a smug smirk. "I only built castles."

He can hear Scott choke on a startled laugh, covering it up as an unimpressed cough.

"Uh-huh..." Scott drawls, his voice carrying through the swaying sheets. "Someone explain to me why I can sense your head growing bigger from here."

"My ego is the perfect size, thank you." Reyes strolls over and kneels near the source of Scott's voice, grinning to himself. "My parents named me 'Reyes' for a reason, you know. It's a decent enough title to live up to."

Scott stretches languidly, popping his joints. "Too bad that I'm the king of this castle then," Scott retorts. His fingers brush the sheets' edges, and it takes less than a second for him to feel an admiring caress in return.

A single heated shudder trails along his body. He pointedly clears his throat, but Reyes' touch persists.

"In that case," Reyes purrs, "may I come in, Your Majesty? I swear to be on my best behavior."

"And if I don't want you to be?" Scott asks.

"Well..." Reyes shrugs. "That can be arranged."

"Hmm..." Scott hums in contemplation, thoughtfully tapping a finger against his chin. He lets Reyes stew for another moment or two before he supposedly comes to a decision. "I guess I see no harm in letting you enter my most holy sanctuary."

Reyes snickers and pulls the sheet back, his head poking through, his hair a wild, beautiful mess. "I'm truly honored."

"As you should be," Scott jokes. Reyes shuffles in and adjusts himself at Scott's side. It takes one full-body look for Scott's mouth to go dry. It's practically routine to see Reyes perfectly groomed, perfectly composed.

But it's an entirely different experience to witness Reyes at his most comfortable. It's completely different to see him in casual wear with a five o'clock shadow adorning his face and a pair of grey sweatpants hanging haphazardly off of his hips. With how he is lying against the pillows, his black tank top is riding up, stretching out over his chest.

Scott takes his moment to ogle, although part of him feels as if he is extremely underdressed in comparison, clad only in a pair of standard black boxer briefs. Regardless, Reyes' gaze burns into him, branding his skin, so Scott figures that his state of undress must have some benefits.

It's only when Scott catches a flash of metal against Reyes' chest that he is reminded of an earlier thought, but it leaves as soon as it comes, mostly due to Reyes' breathless voice breaking through his reverie.

"God, you're so beautiful," Reyes whispers, his fingers trailing over Scott's chest in awe. All of the breath in Scott's lungs suddenly escapes him, and then he's left squirming against Reyes' roaming fingers, tickled and breathless all over. "You look like an angel, spread out like this."

"Heh," Scott giggles. His cheeks fill with a hot flush, and it takes all of his willpower not to hide his face behind his hands. Better to maintain some shred of his dignity. Or, well, whatever is left of it at this point. "Rey, seriously, you're going to kill me at this rate."

"Well, we can't have that," Reyes whispers, leaning in. His nose brushes over Scott's, and their next breath is a shared one, their lips but a hair's width away. "I think I would miss you too much if you left me now."

Reyes' fingertips brush lovingly along Scott's side, so Scott releases a trembling breath, his body arching weakly into Reyes' touch.

"'You think'?" Scott breathes. Their lips brush ever so slightly, and it has Scott's mind reeling. Blood races through his veins, spreading a passionate coil all throughout his body.

Reyes pecks him then. Just once.

"I know so," Reyes reassures him.

Before Scott can properly respond, however, Reyes is suddenly  _there,_ sealing their lips in a soft, exploring kiss. His very presence envelopes Scott. It clouds his thoughts and intoxicates him. For the moment —an endless, glorious moment— Reyes takes up Scott's entire world. All attention is centered on them, together, and Scott suddenly can't get close enough.

He plasters himself against Reyes' body, clutching the flimsy material of Reyes' shirt in a tight fist. As he drags the material further up, bunching it within his grasp, their mouths continue to move in tandem. Reyes trails his tongue along the seam of Scott's mouth, and Scott parts his lips around a desperate pant, opening up for Reyes. Their tongues trip and tangle, and Reyes is all too willing to indulge in this simple pleasure. 

Until he isn't.

When he stops, Scott whimpers into his mouth, dragging him back in for one last kiss. Reyes cherishes it, lingering, but he still manages to pull away.

Resting his forehead against Scott's, their eyes open and remained locked together. Their breaths are shaky and unsteady, so they both work to regain some semblance of control.

Scott huffs petulantly at Reyes, embracing him nevertheless.

"And here I thought we were just getting started," Scott drones. His tone draws out a sheepish grin from Reyes, and an apologetic peck is placed upon swollen lips.

"Sorry, but we don't have any supplies in your castle, Your Majesty."

"Damn your logic," Scott sighs. Of course, it would be no trouble at all to get their asses up and take the trip to the bedroom, but it's sort of obvious that neither man is willing to part from each other.

Great.

"Besides," Reyes says, staring into Scott's light blue eyes, "I didn't enter your gorgeous castle with the intention of seducing my fair king." He winks slyly at Scott. "I am way too noble to do such a lecherous thing."

Scott snorts at that. "Yeah, okay, and who are you trying to convince here?"

"I'm wounded, Scott. I truly am."

"You'll recover," Scott chuckles. "So, if you didn't come to deflower your most precious, _innocent_ king—" This time, it is Reyes' turn to snort at Scott's wild theatrics, but Scott continues on without missing a beat. "—then why did you come?"

Reyes' gaze softens, his expression melting into something more tender, more sincere...

"Mostly to check on you," Reyes explains, brushing Scott's hair out of his face. "And I come home to find out that you built a fort. Want to explain that?"

Scott shrugs helplessly. His teeth sink readily into his lower lip, but Reyes' thumb is quick to act. As soon as Scott nibbles on the fragile  skin, Reyes is already pulling it free.

"I-I don't know. I—" Scott takes a deep breath, and Reyes waits while he composes his thoughts, various expressions flickering erratically across his face, vanishing soon after into a wispy afterthought. "I guess that I just needed to escape from, well... from everything. This just happened to be the most soothing way to do that. Lots of nostalgia goes into building a fort."

"You're worried," Reyes states. He knows enough about Scott to know for certain. He knows the majority of Scott's tells, and they serve him well enough when figuring out when something is wrong.

Unfortunately for them, this time is one of those times.

"Yeah," Scott says, not even attempting to argue against the obvious. "I am."

"About your sister," Reyes continues, to which Scott only answers with a wary nod. "She'll be arriving in Port this evening."

"Yeah," Scott sighs, "I know."

"Listen, cariño, if you want me to handle the whole Resistance thing alone this time, I can."

Before Reyes even finishes, Scott is already shaking his head, his brow scrunching in discontent.

"No, I mean, I'll have to see her eventually. Might as well get it over with." Needing the comfort, Scott snuggles closer into Reyes' arms, his body warm and lax. "And I actually am happy to see her again, but I think that's part of the problem. A week ago, I thought that Sara was dead. Now..." _Deep breaths, Scott, deep breaths. "_ Now, she's coming here. It all feels like a dream, like I should be waiting to wake up at any moment."

"I honestly hope this isn't a dream," Reyes says, staring pointedly at Scott.

Scott swallows thickly under Reyes' laser-focused gaze, but let it be said that Scott Ryder never backs down from a challenge.

"And if it _is_ all a dream?" Scott asks, already dreading what would come next. Reyes grins, and Scott fondly accepts the kiss he's offering.

"Then I never want to wake up," Reyes whispers.

With an exaggerated groan, Scott buries his face into Reyes' neck, but even that cannot hide how widely he is beaming.

"Oh, the things you say," Scott hums, kissing along Reyes' throat until he finds his fluttering pulse. Flipping them over, Scott pays special attention to that area. He's unafraid to drag tongue and teeth along Reyes' brown skin, even if such attention leaves a few marks in its wake. Reyes goads him on through muted sighs and throaty moans, but he still summons enough of his waning composure to reply.

"Y-you love it," he accuses, settling his hands on Scott's hips. He squeezes them tightly while Scott continues his assault on Reyes' throat, his hands finding a place beneath Reyes' shirt. Scott feels his cock start to stir, and he gives an aborted jolt of his hips, his hot breath fanning out over Reyes' warm skin.

"I love  _you,"_ Scott murmurs. Reyes shudders beneath him, squirming uncontrollably, and damn if that doesn't send a spike of heat straight through Scott's chest. Having this man, who embodies strength and power, so eager beneath him is absolutely breathtaking in every possible way. "God, how did I get so lucky?"

And, just like that, he has those golden brown eyes trained directly onto him. Reyes' gaze is hooded and molten, darkened by full-blown pupils and dripping with desire. It's nearly palpable in the air. Scott can practically feel the taste on the back of his tongue. Pure, unadulterated want fills the space between their bodies, much more charged than before, and Scott can feel Reyes' growing erection with each swivel of his hips.

"Scott, cariño," Reyes pants, "listen, I love you, but if one of us doesn't get some lube in the next five seconds—" Before he can finish, Scott shoves him back into the pillow pile with a loud laugh, crawling awkwardly out of the fort to head to the bedroom. "Ugh, a bit of warning would be appreciated next time!"

"Did I ruin the mood?" Scott calls back, wincing at how uncomfortably tight his underwear has become. The scratch of fabric against his cock is not the most pleasant feeling in the world, so he eagerly peels them away.

"Not even close," Reyes says.

The words are followed immediately by a pleasured sigh, and Scott gets slightly distracted by his own imagination, wondering what could possibly pull such a filthy sound from his lover. Shaking his head to clear it of such thoughts, Scott hunts around until he emerges with some lube and a condom.

Victoriously, he starts to head back into the main living area when a flash of metal catches his eye. He stares uncertainly at his bedside table, nibbling carelessly on his lip, before he snatches the item up.

Making his way through the maze of sheets and blankets, Scott enters the fort again, and what he finds is definitely not what he left behind.

Reyes is spread out comfortably across the pillows, looking every bit like something out of a wet dream. His shirt is rucked up his chest, exposing dark, dusky nipples to the cool air. The band of his sweatpants are pulled down, stretched out around his thighs, along with his underwear. He's slowly stroking his swollen cock, and he takes the time to spread pre along his length before returning to his earlier motions. Scott watches him, entranced.

"Enjoying the view?" Reyes rasps, peering over at his partner. His hips undulate with a smooth, graceful motion, and Scott smiles softly, knowing that Reyes is showing off now.

Setting their stuff aside, Scott eagerly takes up the spot between Reyes' legs and works his hands along shaky thighs. He strips Reyes of his pants and underwear, tossing the clothing somewhere behind him. Right now, he can't find it in himself to care, and it is between rough, desperate kisses that they finally manage to free Reyes of his shirt. Once that is out of the way, their lips return to each other, and Scott shivers when he feels the cold bite of metal against his flesh.

Reyes, sensing this, goes to take off his dog tags, but Scott's hand is there to stop him. Reyes shoots Scott a confused look, but Scott smiles bashfully at him in return. Sliding the tags free, Scott slips them appreciatively over his own neck. Reyes watches him with dark eyes, yet his expression reveals nothing. Scott gulps, hoping that he's not making a fool out of himself.

"I hope you don't mind if I hold on to these," Scott whispers. The metal clangs noisily against his chest, and he traces them lovingly for a second before he bends over to reach into their "supply" pile. He returns with his own set, which he hasn't worn in years, and he places them over Reyes' neck. Reyes readily accepts them, never once glancing away from Scott. Scott thumbs at the shiny metal. His name over Reyes' heart. "After all you've given me, I just wanted to find something meaningful to give back to you."

When Reyes doesn't instantly respond, Scott fidgets and continues on, his body curling nervously in on itself. "I mean, I wanted to do more for you than some routine shuttle repairs, and we don't necessarily have to wear our own anymore. There's no Alliance here to worry about regs, and we both have implants for identification, and I just wanted you to have a part of me to carry with you, and-and—"

Seeing how riled up he's becoming, Reyes quickly silences Scott with a kiss. It's not a perfect one by any means, applied with too great of force and filled with too many teeth, but it serves it purpose. They manage to fix it together, though, as they always do. They take the time to feel each other out, to perfect that sense of harmony that originates from years of knowing one another, inside and out.

When Reyes pulls away, they're both panting heavily into each other's mouths, clinging greedily to each other.

"Make love to me," Reyes says abruptly.

Scott stares at him dumbly for a second, his brain short-circuiting. "Huh?"

Reyes puffs out a breath of laughter. He spreads his legs invitingly, and Scott settles obediently in between. A bold thigh wraps around his waist. A coy finger loops its way through Reyes' dog tags, dragging Scott closer with a tug of the chain. Their lips interlock, and all of Scott's thoughts are thrown carelessly out the window.

Once Reyes releases him, breaking the kiss with a sharp gasp, he reclines onto the pillows and preens at Scott's attention. He tangles his fingers into his new set of chains, and he brings Scott's tags to his lips, claiming them with a lingering kiss.

"I'm yours," Reyes whispers, and that's honestly all that Scott needs to hear.

He easily pins Reyes into place with his stare, claiming his body and his heart as his own.

*****

When they both come down, both men sweating and aching in all of the right places, Scott sighs against Reyes' chest.  

"We need to go get ready," he reminds him, kissing along the outline of his jaw. "The  _Tempest_ is going to be docking in about an hour."

Reyes grumbles, but he makes no sign of moving. Scott tsks at him disapprovingly and pulls away, stretching the kinks out of his body. His fingers and his head trace along the folds of their still-standing fort, so Scott is careful not to send the entire thing crashing down around them. Reyes watches with tender eyes, and Scott grins playfully at him, picking up a nearby pillow and tossing it into his face.

"Stop staring and come on," Scott says, crawling out of the fort from the opposite side. Reyes shoves the pillow away, glaring, but he is following after Scott as soon as he spots him leaving.

Squealing, Scott runs out as fast as he possibly can, but Reyes is right behind him, chasing after. Obviously, they weren't quite as graceful as they anticipated because a resounding crash echoes in the space behind them.

Neither of them even stops to look back.

They only stop once Reyes finally has Scott cornered in the shower. Reyes pounds an impatient fist against the shower's control panel, and a cool spray rains down from above. Reyes shoves Scott up against the wall, trapping him in from both sides. Water is more than likely spraying outside of the tiny stall, but they're both too engrossed with each other to care about any mess being made.

Reyes kisses him fiercely, whispering huskily, "You really shouldn't have done that."

"Oh?" Scott asks, twirling strands of Reyes' hair between deft fingers. "And what are you going to do about it?"

"I can think of a few things," Reyes mumbles suggestively.

"I bet you can, but —unfortunately for us— we don't have that much time." Scott nods towards the control panel, where a timer is steadily ticking away. "Shower is gonna cut off in two," Scott says, "and we really need to clean off before this meeting."

"Ugh... I hate it when you're right," Reyes teases. He grabs for some soap and a rag, pulling away to clean off. "And you know we're going to have some major cleaning to do later, right?"

"Don't remind me," Scott laughs, thinking about the crash from before.

He swipes up his own washcloth, lathers it up, and starts scrubbing away at his own skin. Whatever angaran product that Reyes got this time is an intense assault against the senses, but it slides smoothly against Scott's skin, leaving no film behind at all. It must have some type of moisturizing agent as well because, once they emerge from the billowing steam, Scott can't stop marvelling at how smooth his skin is. Scott idly wonders if this is a gift from Keema or another one of Reyes' expensive "favors" being called in.

Regardless, after growing accustomed to some of the cheaper, more subpar products that the Exiles produce, Scott's not one to complain.

It's silly to think how, out here, even quality hygiene products are considered to be luxury items. Andromeda simply has that way of making you realize all of the stuff that was taken for granted back in the Milky Way.

Throwing those thoughts aside for another day, Scott finishes up in the bathroom and heads for their bedroom. He dons an undersuit to begin with and checks to ensure that the fabric is accommodating to his movements. Once that checks out, he starts pulling out the bits and pieces of his armor that he has assembled over the past year or so. With every operation that Scott has undertaken lately, he's been publicly undermining more and more of Sloane's authority. Of course, Sloane being Sloane, she is probably sitting her ass on her precious throne, salivating at the idea of having Scott Ryder's head on a pike.

So, yeah, it's best for everyone involved that he arrives prepared whenever he ventures into Port. He tries to keep his visits to a minimum, but there are days —like today— when it's impossible to stay away.

From the corner of his eyes, he catches Reyes staring at him. Well, no, not at  _him_ , but at his armor. Scott doesn't even need to follow his gaze to know what he's staring at. It's a fairly new addition to Scott's mostly black armor. A stark white contrast against a dark background. In the center of his chest is no other than the Collective's symbol.

While they were both involved with making that particular update to the set, it never seems to fail with leaving Reyes utterly astonished. Scott usually wants to tease him about it, but there's always something in Reyes' gaze warning him against it.

Still, this is the most straightforward way of aligning himself with the Charlatan. Most of the Collective members are informed of his specific set of circumstances —how he takes no orders from anyone within the organization, operating as a type of free agent— yet they all reacted to the news of this new ally of theirs in an unexpected way. Instead of trying to figure out his relation  _to_ the Charlatan, they seem to accept Scott as either the Charlatan himself or some sort of spokesman thereof.

For those who believe that the Charlatan is a widespread group of individuals, Scott is just one of many in their minds, but all of them are agreed on one thing. Whoever Scott is, he's clearly placed at the top of their hierarchical ladder, and that belief is made even more apparent in their treatment of him.

At first, neither Scott nor Reyes knew how to deal with that surprising development, but Reyes is nothing if not a resourceful man. He can work with having his people believe that Scott is the Charlatan, and Scott honestly doesn't care how they throw his name around.

The fact that it obviously gets under Sloane's skin is also an added benefit on Scott's part. Anytime that she hears Scott, her _supposed_ enemy and rival, has slipped in and out of Port without her knowing, it's like another middle finger to her and her ruthless organization. Honestly, he probably shouldn't provoke the woman that so badly wants him executed, but Scott figures that he can be a bit petty about some things in life.

However, given how Reyes appears now, it's obvious that he still has mixed feelings about it all, but Reyes thankfully keeps quiet on the subject. They've beaten this argument to death already. Scott is fully capable of making his own decisions and dealing with their consequences. As protective as Reyes is, there are moments when it's fine, just as there are moments when it's not.

Scott knows what he is getting into, and Reyes needs to accept that.

Part of Scott knows that the problem originates from the part of Reyes that is self-conscious to a fault, but it... They're working on it.

Scott notices the time and nods pointedly at Reyes. He tries to smile reassuringly, but Scott is certain that his expression contorts into a grimace along the way.

"Better go suit up, handsome." Scott pecks his cheek as he strolls by. "I'll be waiting for you at the shuttle."

"I won't be long," Reyes says, gathering his gear.

Scott ignores the cluttered mess that is now their living room. One glance is enough to make him wince, so he's out the door as swiftly as possible.

Reyes emerges not too long after, and they board the shuttle together, Reyes taking command of his craft like it's second nature to him. His hands are a flurry of activity while he checks the systems, and they are quick to make the appropriate adjustments as they go. Once they are off the ground, Reyes visibly relaxes, gliding his shuttle through the open skies.

Now, this... this is the part that Scott loves as well. Being able to see how his hours of work are being put to use. Well, nothing can quite beat that, and he has way more opportunities to fly without the Nexus breathing down his neck. Back then, he had one sole job: to keep the aircrafts flying. People, pilots especially, tended to look at you funny if you even suggested going on a ride. It was all about staying in your lane, learning your place, blah, blah, blah...

At least, it was until Reyes.

Scott still remembers the first time they snuck off together like a pair of rowdy teenagers. Reyes had overheard Scott voicing his desire to fly one day, to actually see what the shuttles could do when they were being put through their paces. When Scott's co-worker had scoffed at the mere notion, trudging along to work on something else, Reyes had sidled up beside Scott and offered to take him flying. Reyes had taken his hand and introduced himself as one of the many pilots that Scott worked with.

They snuck out that same night and used Reyes' assigned shuttle without authorization. By the time they returned, they were both written up or something along those lines. They were placed on probation for wasting "precious" resources —mind you, this was well before anyone even realized that the arks weren't coming— and they were told that they'd be lucky to work another day on the Nexus.

They also made it a point to mention how absolutely, devastatingly disappointed the human Pathfinder would be with Scott's actions.

Yeah, so nothing new on that front.

Scott had flipped them off as soon as their backs were turned, and Reyes had snorted obnoxiously loud. When they had turned around, both men were acting as innocent as can be, fooling no one at all. Once the "authorities" were out of sight, however, they both cracked up, running off of laughter and adrenaline. Reyes tugged Scott along, inviting him to his quarters for drinks, and the rest —as they say— is history.

For Scott, any chance that they get to fly together on Kadara is therapeutic in a sense, and each time is a chance to see Reyes in his true element again.

Running the Collective might be familiar to Reyes, but flying is something that is _natural_. Scott can see how it is written in every line, every movement, of Reyes' body. While Reyes might have been trained to lead, he was born to fly.

_God,_ Scott thinks, grinning wryly to himself.  _When did I become such a romantic?_ He glances over at Reyes again, and he can feel himself melting from the inside out.  _Nevermind, I think I figured it out._

Of course, the ride to Port is not nearly long enough for their tastes, and Scott takes a moment to catch his breath as soon as they land. Reyes waits patiently for him, powering everything down in the meantime. Once Scott is ready, signalling him with a curt nod, they exit the shuttle and make their way to the rendezvous point.

Kralla's Song.

Scott knows what that means.

He glowers at Reyes, who glances back in wide-eyed innocence, but Scott can already see the corner of his mouth twitching, undoubtedly fighting a smirk.

"What?" Reyes asks, his grin slipping free.

"Pay for your own drinks for once," Scott huffs, ignoring the people who are openly staring at him in either awe or disgust.

One guess on which emotion the local Outcasts are settling on.

"I'll have you know that my drink tabs are always taken care of," Reyes says, conveying all of the confidence in the world as he swaggers into the bar. Scott follows behind, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, by me," Scott adds.

He glances around, scanning the area, and his breath catches in his throat when he spots her waiting. He nudges Reyes, nodding discreetly in her direction. Not that he even needs to, seeing how she sticks out like a sore thumb, because she just so happens to be the only individual in the entire system that's clad in Initiative colors.

"That's her," Scott affirms. His feet are cemented into place at the moment, and his chest feels as if it's about to cave in. It is only when Reyes grabs his hand does Scott break free of his stupor. Giving Scott's hand a final squeeze, Reyes clears a path to her, leading the way.

Scott's mind can barely comprehend the conversation as he approaches.

"You look like you're waiting for someone," Reyes drawls, garnering Sara's attention. He orders a round of drinks, and she stares suspiciously at Reyes while Scott continues to hang back, faltering just out of her line of sight.

"I am," she says, waving off the drink when offered. There's a weariness to her that Scott is more than familiar with ever since coming to Andromeda.

It's simply the first time he sees it on her.

Reyes spreads his arms out in his signature fashion, as if presenting himself for admiration. Scott smiles fondly at the little gesture, remembering the first time he was on the receiving end of it.

Unlike Scott, however, Sara is less than impressed by the dramatic flair, eyeing Reyes up and down. Not in an appreciative way either, but in a distrustful one. 

Great. Already leading off to an excellent start.

"Shena," Reyes introduces, leaning forward to shake her hand. "But you can call me Reyes. I hate code names."

Scott's body seems to take that as a signal of some sort. Halfway through Reyes' introduction, Scott is strolling forward, his mouth running before his brain can properly register the words being said.

"Of course," Scott says, glancing over at his partner, "he's only one half of the whole." He meets Sara's bewildered gaze, smiling bleakly. "By all means, though, I think you and I are beyond code names, Pathfinder."

"Scott?" Sara stammers. "What... I-How...?"

Scott interrupts her by closing the distance between them, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. It takes Sara a moment for her brain to catch up, but —when it does— she's returning the embrace with just as much fervor. When that isn't enough, she holds Scott away at arms length, staring at his face in disbelief. 

"I-I can't believe this," she whispers.

Scott chuckles hysterically. "Yeah, well, me neither."

"I thought you were dead," she says, choking down a sob, subconsciously aware that this is no place to show such weakness. "But let's take this elsewhere." She glances around at their curious audience. "This isn't the time."

"We're leaving already?" Reyes asks, feigning disappointment. Sara glares at him.

"Scott and I are. Not you," she says. Her tone obviously means business, as though she is readying to defend her authority for what seems like the millionth time today, but Reyes merely raises his hands in a sign of defeat.

"Hey, if that's what Scott wants, then fine," Reyes says, "but I have a room in Tartarus that you are both free to use."

"Why would you help us?" Sara sneers, but Reyes simply laughs it off, waving away her concerns.

"I have a —shall we say— vested interest in your brother's wellbeing, Pathfinder." When Sara raises an incredulous brow, Reyes shrugs nonchalantly, winking at Scott. "He and I are _close_ associates. To what extent, you should ask him yourself, but I have to get things set up as your Resistance contact. Once Scott fills you in on everything, I'll be awaiting your call."

Without sticking around for a response, Reyes downs the rest of his drink and strolls out of the bar, leaving Scott to pay for his order yet again.

Sly bastard.

Sara clears her throat, and Scott blushes, knowing that he was caught red-handed staring after Reyes. More specifically, Reyes' ass, but Scott isn't admitting to anything. Least of all to his own sister.

Too bad she's already leveling him with her finest look of disapproval. She gives him the same critical once over that she gave Reyes, and her eyebrow quirks impossibly higher at the symbol on Scott's chest. Scott doesn't hide it, though. He vowed that he would stand by Reyes in his loyalty, and he meant that.

With an internal sigh, Scott gestures for Sara to follow him. She trails behind him all the way to the Slums, and she watches silently while Scott greets most of Tartarus' customers and employees by name. When Scott nods to Kian in greeting, Kian cautiously returns it, eyeing Sara the entire time she's in sight.

Only when they are upstairs, sequestered away in Reyes' private room, does Sara turn on Scott to confront him.

"Okay," she snaps, "not that I'm not happy to see you, but what the hell is going on?"

Scott takes a moment to secure the room, locking the doors and scanning for any surveillance bugs before he finally answers. After all, in a place like Kadara, it's better to be safe than sorry.

"You're going to have be more specific if you want an answer," Scott says instead, not even knowing where to start with this situation.

Sara narrows her eyes at him, pursing her lips.

"How about let's start with the fact that you're not with the Initiative anymore." Scoffing at the very idea, Sara shakes her head at him in disbelief. Scott feels his heart sink, and the burn of shame settles heavily like a rock in his stomach. Sara only twists the knife further in, unrelenting in her persistence. "Scott, what are you doing here? What would Mom think? What would _Dad_ think if he found you living like this? Do you think that this is what he meant about 'giving us a new start'? That he wants you out here with the Exiles, instead of on the Nexus where you're supposed to be?"

Ahh... the big question. Scott doesn't even know why he's surprised at this point. He shouldn't be, not whenever everyone in that god-forsaken Initiative placed all of their expectations for Alec onto his shoulders, only to be endlessly disappointed when Scott didn't measure up to his father's legacy.

Different galaxy, same old bullshit.

Scott grits his teeth, feeling his face heat up in embarrassment. His eyes sting and burn, but he ignores it, keeping the tears at bay. Something deep within him knew that Sara couldn't possibly comprehend what he's been through, but he had foolishly hoped. He had hoped that she would at least give him the chance to explain, but Scott knows his sister. He knows that stubborn tone currently flooding her voice because it's one that he himself has used in the past. Whatever caused it, she already has this image in her mind painted about the Exiles. For now, there's no changing that.

_Maybe in the future,_ Scott tells himself,  _but not today._

Today, they have work to do, but Scott cannot stop the word vomit that happens next, years and years of pain building up to this point of eruption.

"You know what," Scott huffs, laughing breathlessly. He runs his fingers through his hair and place his hands on his hips. He glances at the ceiling, counting to ten and backwards, over and over, but it is doing nothing to cool the fire building in his veins. He glares at Sara, meeting her judgemental stare with one of his own. "I thought about how this conversation would go so many times in the past week. You have _no idea!_ " Scott pauses, takes a deep, trembling breath, and draws his voice back down to a lower volume. "Not. A. Single. Idea. Of the shit I've been through for the past year!"

And just like that, he's yelling again, his vision blurring uncontrollably. But he needs to say this. He needs to get this out there in the open. It doesn't matter how his heart is pounding or how his palms are sweating. It doesn't matter how his entire body feels as if it's falling apart at the seams. He is just so, so tired. He's so tired of it all, and he can't stand it.

"F-for you, for  _you,"_ Scott rasps, pointing unsteadily at Sara, "it hasn't been that long, but it's been that long for me! So yeah, I'm so fucking sorry that I wasn't thinking about daddy dearest's wishes whenever my survival was on the line, Sara. When I thought that you both had died, drifting in space God knows where. I'm so sorry that I couldn't live up to Alec Ryder's expectations, or that you couldn't either, for that matter."

"Scott—" Sara warns, but these feelings have been building steadily for six hundred years, only to boil over now. It's not that easy to simply shove them away, not even if his anger is misdirected at Sara.

Scott is just so tired...

"What?" Scott snaps, shrugging helplessly. "We both know it's true. That man couldn't ever summon up a single 'I love you' or an 'I'm so proud of you,' not even for us. He couldn't spare a single second away from his work for our graduations or our promotions. It was always about _him,_ and he's the reason why even the Alliance was ready to get rid of us. It took Mom dying for him to finally get his head out of his ass, but everyone seems to think that the man is a saint. You all want me to follow in his footsteps, and you want me to worship the ground he walked on. Well, news flash, Sara, I'm not Dad! I came to Andromeda for you and only you, but things changed."

"So what?" Sara rasps, her eyes glistening in the low lighting. "So what then, Scott? You're just going to live it up here? Be a criminal for the rest of your life?"

"What a load of bullshit they're feeding you up there," Scott chuckles, dragging a hand over his face. "Do you know that, statistically, the majority of the Milky Way inhabitants that live here aren't even involved in the criminal life? Oh yeah, sure, there's more than enough to make up for those who don't, but a lot of these people are just that. People who disagreed with how your precious leadership was handling things, so they got kicked out on their asses for having opinions. Now, you Nexus cronies all run around, turning your backs on the very people you were sworn to protect!"

Scott closes his eyes and shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose in attempt to stave off the incoming headache. It does very little to actually soothe the piercing pain, but it's a distraction nevertheless.

"Sorry to crush all of your hopes and dreams, Sis, but I don't belong anywhere near the Nexus. And I don't plan on going back."

His words are delivered with a brutal finality. Sara stands there, staring blankly into space, but Scott doesn't plan on meeting her gaze anyways. He can't.

No matter what happens, though, Sara will always be his big sister. She will always be that silly girl that went through elementary school with pigtails and a missing tooth. She will always be that cliche twin that brags about being a minute older. She will always be that woman who enlisted into the Alliance at his side, or that girl who was quick to cover for him when he snuck out on dates or to go to parties during high school.

At the end of the day, they would always be a package deal, and they would always love each other at the end of it all, even if that's difficult to believe at the moment.

Scott just needs to hold onto that hope for his own sake. Hold onto the hope that, one day, things will be better.

Right now, they both obviously need some space to cool down, but that can wait a bit longer.

After all, they still have business to attend to.

Scott turns the subject completely around, not wasting any time at all.

"Our target's name is Vehn Terev," Scott informs her, effortlessly slipping into "business" mode. Sara turns her once-distant gaze onto him, listening attentively. "Word has spread around Kadara about what he did to the Moshae, so the locals are already calling out for his head. Sloane Kelly, leader of the Outcasts, has him currently in her custody."

"And we need to break him out?" Sara asks. Scott nods.

"Yeah, as soon as we have him out, we'll turn him over to the Resistance. Let Evfra and the others decide his fate," Scott explains. He takes another second to send off a message to Reyes on his omni-tool, causing Sara to frown thoughtfully.

"That man... Shena..."

"Reyes," Scott corrects. "We're both technically 'Shena,' so you'd probably do better to actually remember his name." Scott senses Sara's distaste, so he rolls his eyes at her. "What about him?"

"Are you...?"

"We're married," Scott deadpans, and it's so worth it to witness the horrified look on Sara's face. She practically chokes on her next words, and it sends Scott spiraling into a fit of laughter. "God, you should've seen your face, Sis. Sorry to break it to you, but he's just my boyfriend, partner... whatever you wish to call it. Oh, I got it." Scott sarcastically snaps his fingers, a lightbulb flashing on above his head. "We're  _roommates."_

"Okay, okay, I get it," Sara grumbles. "No need to be a smartass."

"Oh, but that's all of the fun."

"You know what," Sara says, cutting him off. "Let's get going. The quicker we get this over with, the better."

"For once," Scott sighs, "I can't agree more."

**Author's Note:**

> Don't worry, I plan on Sara and Scott having a better chance to talk things out. Tensions were high here, and Scott just had a lot that he needed to get off his chest. It's been a long year for him.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading! <3


End file.
